


were you left behind (to find your way home)

by SailorChibi



Series: thunder family [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with feels, Baby!Tony, Crying, Cuddling, Daddy!Thor, Diapers, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little!Darcy, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Thor Is Not Stupid, Tony Blames Himself, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alternate universe - littles are known, basically thor and jane adopt tony, bottles, but in a not necessarily bad way, darcy is a cool big sis, jane is a little bit magical, manipulative darcy, mommy!jane, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, takes place very soon after civil war, thor is a little creepy, tony is shit at taking care of himself, tony needs to give himself a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Tony is alone and struggling after everything that happened, until Thor returns home from Asgard. But it's not the Thor that Tony remembers: this Thor, as well as his wife Jane and daughter Darcy, intends to take care of Tony.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure what prompted this. I just had a scene in mind of Thor appearing in Tony's doorway and Tony mistaking him for Steve, and the idea grew from there.

Tony ached all the time now, but he never hurt more than when Rhodey looked up from the hospital bed and asked if he was okay. There was something physical about the effort it took to smile, particularly when he knew that he wasn’t fooling Rhodey for a damn second. He spent a couple of minutes laying the platitudes on thick and then, once he had slipped out of the room and was away from Rhodey’s too-knowing look, had to lean against the wall and take several deep breaths to keep from crying.

He didn’t have the luxury of staying there long, though. Hearing the squeak of a nurse’s shoes against the floor, he glanced up instinctively and cringed. Behind the – by now familiar – pink scrubs, he saw Rhodey’s family returning: his mom, his dad, his little sister, and at least one aunt and uncle. Not all of them would be allowed in the room since Rhodey was still in intensive care, which meant that the rest of them would be clustered in the hall, peering through the window.

His body moved of its own accord; Tony skittered in the opposite direction, safely around the corner before anyone realized he was there. He couldn’t abide one of Mrs. Rhodes’s hugs right now, not when he was the reason Rhodey was laying in that bed. Not to mention the looks the rest of the family would give him. The best he could hope for was pity, and the worst would be outright disdain and silent accusations. All of the above would tip him over the edge and make him lose his already flimsy grasp on his control.

He lingered there, feeling like the worst kind of voyeur, until Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes had gone into the room. Rhodey’s sister, Josie, began to cry again, and Tony took that as a hint to leave. He shuffled into the elevator and, even though it was night, slid his sunglasses down onto his nose when he realized the stares he was getting from staff, patients and visitors alike. _Everyone_ was curious about the fate of the Avengers, and he had nothing more to give right now.

A driver he didn’t know took him back to the empty tower; Happy was with Pepper, who was working feverishly to avoid a drop in stock after the fiasco, and the Vision had remained at the hospital with Rhodey at Tony’s request. Until it was safe for Rhodey to be moved out of intensive care, Tony didn’t want to risk anything else happening to him. He would’ve preferred to have sat there himself, but Rhodey would never allow it.

The elevator took him up to the penthouse. Tony stepped out. A shiver worked its way through him, head to toe, ending on a hushed sob that he couldn’t swallow. He was so _tired_. Tired of having to be strong. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of constantly reassuring Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Vision and T’Challa that he was fine. Tired of the questions, the attention, and the lies. Tired of having Ross in his face every damn morning, demanding to know where Steve and the others were.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tony whispered, but of course there was no one to hear. And it wasn’t like he had a choice. He had to keep going because there was no one else, simple as that. But the Little side of him – the side he’d been beating down with both fists all this time – wanted to just sit down on the floor and cry until someone came along and righted the world again.

He looked around the living room. Unwittingly, he remembered the last time when he’d felt this run-down and little. He’d come home and walked in on Steve and Thor catching up on old movies. Thor had taken one look at him and declared that he needed to go to bed; Tony had fought him, but not much, because it felt so nice to be coddled. Between the two of them, they’d coaxed Tony into eating (Steve had fed him in the end, patiently spooning noodles into Tony's mouth, like a mother feeding a baby bird) and put him to bed.

Tony had woken up two hours later in a pee-soaked bed because he hadn’t slipped on a diaper beforehand, but he preferred not to think about that part of it. He had to wear one all the time now because there were just too many things to focus on and 90% of any given time, his concentration was shot. But no one was aware of that, either. Most of the time the press and general public seemed to forget that he was classified as a Little and Tony intended to keep it that way for as long as he could. 

"Boss," Friday said, making Tony start. "Your email -"

"Mute," Tony said, lifting a hand to his pounding head, and of course she went quiet. 

Very slowly, he walked down the hall to what now passed as his bedroom, seeing as how he'd had the master bedroom demolished after Pepper moved out. It was as small as the one he and Rhodey had shared at MIT. Those were good days. Rhodey wasn't a caregiver, but there had been a handful of days when he'd looked after Tony anyway. Given him bottles, and put him to bed, and changed his diapers. Tony remembered those days with a fierce longing, and renewed grief over the realization that Rhodey might never lean over him again period.

He would never have that again, and no matter what Pepper said, in the end Tony had only himself to blame.

His fingers shook with fatigue as he stripped his clothes off, leaving his pants, suit jacket, shirt, shoes and socks where they lay on the floor. The diaper - soiled, of course, because that was Tony's life - was deposited in the garbage, but he was too tired to bother putting another one. He'd regret it come morning, but then again chances were good he'd be awake long before then from nightmares.

Regardless, Tony fell onto the bed with all the grace of Dummy at his most chaotic, pressing his face into the pillow. His whole body throbbed, pain screaming through his nerves, but he hardly cared about that. Another, harder sob shook him, and he brought his hands up, clutching at the pillow to better muffle the sounds as he cried.

He must have drifted off to sleep; he _must_ have to not have noticed the presence of someone else before they got to his bedroom. The unmistakable sensation of being watched was what woke him finally. He pried his eyes open, dizzy and confused, and lurched upright as fast as he could when he saw the shadowed figure in the doorway, fumbling for his gauntlet. Though he hardly presented an imposing sight, naked and with tear tracks on his face, sitting in the middle of a wet patch of sheets - 

"Calm yourself, Anthony. It is I."

He was tired enough that it took him a second to place the voice, and, when he did, he said skeptically, "Thor?"

"Yes," Thor said, edging his way into the room. He stepped into a pool of moonlight, because Tony had forgotten to close the curtains, and it really was him. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt instead of his usual princely garb, but that wasn't the only reason he looked different. 

"You look different," Tony said, pulling the gauntlet off his arm and tossing it aside. 

"I was on Asgard," Thor replied. "It has been some time since we last saw each other. Certain things have changed."

"Tell me about it," Tony muttered.

"I don't think I need to right now," Thor said. He sounded, Tony realized for the first time, very gentle. It was a tone that he had only ever heard Thor use with Darcy. 

He tipped his head up, looking at Thor through his lashes. "What are you doing?" he asked, willing to forego the usual battle of words he so liked to indulge in. Thor was - had always been - smarter than he pretended, and right now Tony just wanted to roll over to the dry side of the bed and go back to sleep.

Thor stepped closer and lifted his hand. Tony flinched before he could stop himself, breath catching in his throat as the memory of Steve flashed through his head. Thor froze, sorrow flickering across his face; he moved only when Tony looked back at him, setting his palm on Tony's hair with great care. It was a warm weight, a heavy weight, and Tony went very still.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked again.

Instead of answering, Thor said, "May I?"

Tony didn't know what he was asking for. He nodded anyway.

Thor's hand left his hair, sliding down under his arm. His other hand slid under Tony's left arm, and then Thor lifted him - easily, effortlessly, as though Tony weighed no more than ten pounds. Tony froze, astounded, as Thor settled him on his left hip. His legs dangled, but Thor was tall enough that his feet were still several inches from the ground. An iron grip wound around his waist, one big hand supporting his butt.

His mouth hung open, dumbstruck and speechless.

"You need to be changed," Thor announced, not sparing a glance for the soiled bed, and turned to carry Tony out of the room.

"What are you - have you lost your mind?" Tony squeaked; he clutched at Thor's shoulders, but told himself it was only because it was disorienting to be carried. 

"Shush, Anthony," Thor murmured. "You are not alone now."

A sudden swell of emotion made it impossible to speak past the lump in his throat. Tony swallowed repeatedly as Thor lowered him onto the couch - with great care, as though he knew how much Tony hurt. Maybe he did, considering that the evidence was bare before him: Tony's skin was a patchwork of bruises, cuts and burns. Thor openly looked him over, taking notice of every wound, before he continued: there was a changing mat already set out, along with a familiar diaper bag. Tony lay still and quiet, shocked, as Thor cleaned him up with baby wipes, slipped a diaper under his bottom, and then expertly fastened it shut.

He smiled down at Tony, something tender replacing the sorrow, and offered Tony a pacifier. Cautiously, Tony opened his mouth to accept it. He hadn't sucked on a pacifier for a long time, relegated to using his thumb as a poor substitute when he couldn't be bothered to expend the energy to find one, and he'd nearly forgotten how comforting it could be.

"There you are," Thor said, carefully patting his tummy. "I will tell you now that I'm not experienced at looking after someone as little as you, but I will learn."

Tony made a confused sound, still bewildered, but it felt so good to have someone touching him again. A demand for an explanation might make the touching stop, and he wasn't sure he would be able to handle that. He looked up at Thor, the room suddenly blurry, and Thor shook his head as he reached down for Tony again, picking him up and holding him the same as before.

"Be calm, kind-sveinn," Thor rumbled, cradling Tony close. His voice lowered and deepened as he spoke some words in a language Tony didn't understand.

Fresh tears were rolling down Tony's cheeks before he could stop them. Cautiously, half-expecting Thor to push him away, he wound his arms around Thor's neck. Thor only pulled him closer, tucking Tony's head under his chin, one hand on his hair to keep him there. Not that it was necessary; Thor was warm and _big_ , and being hugged by him was a little like being enshrouded in your favorite blanket, but better. Tony began to sob again, and before long he spit the pacifier out and his sobs turned to wails.

Thor never once tried to shush him, instead holding him while Tony cried. And it felt good to cry, because Tony had been pushing everything down for a very long time now, and it was as though Thor's presence - the presence of a comrade who knew about him, who was neutral in the detestable war, and who he had parted with on mostly good terms - had popped the cork off the bottle. Everything was gushing out.

He cried for a very long time, until his body was too exhausted to cry anymore. The grief was still hot in his chest, but all Tony could do was slump limply against Thor and snuffle at his hair. He gummed at a few of the strands and felt more than heard Thor chuckle.

"That's not for chewing," he said, but kindly, and drew Tony away from his shoulder just enough so that he could wipe Tony's face free of tears and snot. Tony whimpered and clung to him when Thor was finished, and Thor patted his back soothingly even while he turned his head. He dragged a blanket off the bed, winding it around Tony's body, while he spoke.

"I know you're there, ástin mín. Come over."

The little patter of feet made Tony look before he could stop himself. Darcy had come around the end of the couch. Her hair was tied into two braids on either side of her face. She was wearing plain pink pajamas with a sparkly necklace. Her feet were bare. She looked deeply concerned.

"Daddy, is the baby okay?" she asked.

"He is upset," Thor said, shifting Tony so that he could beckon to Darcy with one hand. She ran to him, to them, sliding easily into Thor's grip and perching herself on his free knee. 

"I don't want him to be upset anymore," Darcy said, looking at Tony.

Thor sighed, but it was not a frustrated sound. "Do you remember how you felt when Mommy and I took you to Asgard?" he asked Darcy.

She nodded. "Aunt Sif gave me some really cool clothes."

"Yes, she did, but you did not like Asgard at first, right?"

Darcy frowned deeper. "No."

"And you were upset about being there, but we couldn't change your feelings just because we wanted to." Thor squeezed her. "No more than we can change Anthony's. But now that we're here, we can help him. He is not alone anymore, but he's not used to that. You saw. It will take time, but eventually he will be as happy as you are." He tickled her playfully, and she giggled a little.

Tony didn't understand what was going on. He slipped his thumb in his mouth and sucked it anxiously.

"We were watching you," Darcy said to him. "Uncle Heimdall showed us what was going on. Daddy was mad that everyone was fighting. He says that wars between brothers never go right."

Thor was mad? Tony tensed.

"I am no longer angry. The fight is done, and reparations will be done eventually. But for now you were alone, and you are so very young." Thor was clearly troubled by this thought. "I have made many mistakes over the course of my life. I feared this would be another. My wife and I could not in good conscience leave a baby alone."

"It was Mommy's idea," Darcy said. She smiled in satisfaction. "But I helped. I've wanted a baby brother for a long time." She patted Tony's leg, as though they were co-conspirators. "Mommy always said no before, but she got really sad when she saw you crying the night you came back to New York, and I said we should 'dopt you, and she said no at first, but then she watched you a little more, and then she said yes."

Adopt him? He turned the thought over, slow and sluggish as his brain was working, but it still failed to make any sense. Tony was one of few Littles in the world who had never had a caregiver, much less a mommy or daddy. No one had ever wanted to provide that for him on a long-term basis. Especially not one of his (former) teammates. He stared at Thor in confusion.

"We can talk about it later," Thor told him, "when you're not so little. If you're amenable." He sounded a little sheepish, but Tony didn't grasp why until Jane appeared over Thor's shoulder. She was shaking a bottle and raising an eyebrow at Thor.

"You always rush in so fast," she said fondly. "Hello, sweetheart." She smiled at Tony, and it was a strange smile: a little tender and a little sad, and tears welled up in Tony's eyes again.

"The baby's crying!" Darcy exclaimed. "Mommy, do something!"

"I think Daddy should give him a bottle while I put you to bed," Jane said, coming around the edge of the couch.

"But -"

"No buts. It's past your bedtime." 

Darcy pouted. Jane ignored her, leaning down to give Thor a quick kiss. But she lingered, looking at Tony, lifting a hand as though she might touch him. Tony tensed again, and in the end she didn't; she straightened up and made a shooing motion at Darcy. Still pouting, Darcy stood and took Jane's hand. Jane handed the bottle to Thor.

"Say goodnight, Darcy," she said.

"Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight, Anthony," Darcy said.

"Goodnight," Thor said, shifting Tony so that he was laid across Thor's lap, upper body supported by Thor's arm across his back. Thor guided the nipple of the bottle into Tony's mouth absently, as though that wasn't the point at all, and Tony suckled automatically. Warmed milk, spiced and sweetened, flowed into his mouth, and he relaxed as he placed all of his concentration on something simple: sucking as hard as he could.

Jane smiled at them one last time and wrapped an arm around Darcy's shoulders, guiding her out of the room. She fluttered a hand in the direction of the lights as she went, and the lights dimmed. Darcy's chattering could be heard all the way down the hall, begging for stories, until finally her voice faded to silence.

Thor continued to gaze after them, his expression content, until that moment, and then he lowered his head to look at Tony. The strangest thing of all was that his expression did not change when he had Tony in his line of sight. If anything, his smile deepened. 

"You will be alright," he said, and it wasn't a command so much as a promise, even as he tipped the bottle up to let gravity better help sweep the contents into Tony's mouth.

Tony blinked up at him and continued to drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Assume these translations are extremely rough:
> 
> ástin mín = [my dear/darling](http://aclerkofoxford.blogspot.ca/2011/11/medieval-terms-of-endearment.html)  
> kind-sveinn = [baby boy ](http://www.vikingsofbjornstad.com/Old_Norse_Dictionary_E2N.shtm#s)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
